


pretty things can be evil

by dannydevito



Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Jealousy, M/M, Marking, Possessive Behavior, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28597530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dannydevito/pseuds/dannydevito
Summary: Kinktober Day 6: Marking“Yours,” Rook babbles back, hand squeezing down on Vil’s waist so tight there will definitely be finger shaped bruises there later, his other hand desperately fisting the back of his shirt, clinging onto Vil, holding him as close as possible. “Yours, only yours.”
Relationships: Rook Hunt/Vil Schoenheit
Comments: 20
Kudos: 73





	pretty things can be evil

**Author's Note:**

> [title](https://youtu.be/n3z2I_zaUQA) taken from pretty by don broco (my second rkvl fic with a title pulled from this song lol)

Vil frowned as he pushed Rook into their room, slamming the door behind him. He held back a poorly repressed growl as he pressed Rook into the wall, the hunter just chuckling all the way, body easily following Vil’s unspoken commands, instinctually situating himself where he knew Vil wanted him. Vil glared down at Rook, chest to chest with the hunter, so close they breathed in each other’s air, taking in the smug smile on Rook’s face, fists clenched at his sides.

“Vil, what’s wrong?” Rook finally asked, voice all low and husky with an easy-going lilt to it, the way he knew Vil liked, as if he was intentionally trying to rile him up, which knowing his vice dorm head, _he was._

“You-” Vil snapped, face flushed eyes unintentionally slipping down to the smirk curled into Rook’s lips, watching it grow even bigger under his gaze. “You know exactly what’s wrong!”

“Hmm,” Rook hummed, tilting his face oh so innocently, blonde hair falling against his cheek. “I’m not sure, I was just having a wonderfully pleasant conversation with Jade-kun wh-”

Vil slammed their lips together, cutting off whatever else the hunter was about to say, not needing to hear what a good time he was having with that  _leech._ Wet lips slide against each other, with too much teeth and tongue, their movements rushed and frenzied. Vil bits down on Rook’s lower lip _hard_ , tugging harshly on the hunter's skin, tongue diving into the open mouth, licking and biting his way through, desperate to erase any thoughts of the  Octavinelle student from his Rook’s head. 

Rook groans into the kiss, arching into his touch, broad hands clutching at Vil’s waist, pulling the model in as close as possible, tongue battling with Vil’s, absolutely eager for the rough touch. Vil tugs at Rook’s shirt, ripping it open, the buttons popping off their seams easily, his finely boned hands deceptively strong. The model trails his fingers along the bulging muscles hidden beneath the plain white shirt, circling back around to tease pert, dusky nipples, flicking the nub with his perfectly manicured nails. 

When the need to breathe gets too much Vil pulls back, reluctantly, with a groan, panting into the hunter's mouth. They stand there for a moment, Vil taking in how wrecked Rook looks, rosy lips shiny and red, skin mottled pink, blush resting high on his cheeks, traveling down his neck, the skin on his chest already splotchy. Rook looks completely ravished and Vil isn’t even close to done with him. 

Sucking in a shaky breath Vil dives back down, crouching down to meet Rook’s height, grabbing a fistful of his blonde locks, forcefully tilting the hunters head to the side, baring the smooth, unblemished skin of neck for his greedy mouth. Vil clamps down on the sensitive skin with his perfect teeth  _hard,_ sucking on the delicate skin harshly. “Mine.” Vil rasps into the crook of his neck, nipping at the soft skin splayed before him, leaving a trail of marks in his wake. “Only mine. You belong to me, right?”

“Yours,” Rook babbles back, hand squeezing down on Vil’s waist so tight there will definitely be finger shaped bruises there later, his other hand desperately fisting the back of his shirt, clinging onto Vil, holding him as close as possible. “Yours, only yours.”

Vil continues to ravage the skin of Rook’s neck, sucking and biting frantically, ruining the skin beneath his lips, leaving it red and raw. He drags Rook with him across the room, pushing him down onto their bed, straddling the hunter, pressing him down deep into their sheets. Vil perches himself on Rook’s lap, rocking his hips in a slow teasing circle, grinding down on the hunter’s pulsating cock, eyes trained on Rook, watching him fall apart before him. 

Rook lays in a heap on the bed taking it, desperate hands clawing at their bed sheets, tearing them to shreds, knows better than to try to take the lead when Vil’s in one of his moods. He hastily thrusts his hips up to meet Vil’s slow grind, moaning out in relief, frantic to alleviate any of the growing pressure on his cock. 

Vil seems to finally take mercy on Rook, reaching out towards the hunter’s fly, hand hot against the bulge in his pants, slowly taking his dick out in careful, measured movements. Rook hisses in relief at the first touch of Vil’s soft hand against the silky hot skin of his dick, jerking him off. He twists his hand expertly, wringing out hitched breaths and desperate whines from Rooks throat, the model knows all of his hunter’s sweet spots, is able to play him like a finely tuned instrument, just for him to enjoy. 

Vil pulls his hand back when he feels Rook start to buck up into his fist, back arching off the bed, hips tilted, desperately seeking out his queen’s touch, the hunter’s self-control fraying at the edges, starved for skin-to-skin contact, to feel Vil against him. Rook cries out at the absence of that perfect hand, blinking up blearily at Vil, reaching out with one shaky hand out, only thought running through his head is that Vil, his queen is too far away, he needs him closer, feels off kilter with the distance, even if Vil is just sitting near the end of the bed, it’s still too far, feels like miles and miles to the hunter.

“ Shhh ,” Vil soothes, taking hold of both of Rooks wrists in an iron grip, pinning them to the bed above the hunter's body, his body spread out and pliant, just for Vil’s eyes, pressing a kiss to his hunter’s forehead, soothing the crease between his brow. “You’ve been so good for me, just a little more.”

Rook whimpers at the soft words but stays put, following Vil’s lead. He watches his queen with hazy eyes as Vil makes quick work of his stripping off his clothes, tossing them over his shoulder, leaving himself completely bare to Rook’s eager eyes, smiling at the groan that bubbles out from his hunter's throat. 

“I want you to watch me,” Vil calls out, pulling open their bedside locker, grabbing their lube from it, making quick work of slicking up his fingers before he’s reaching out behind him. “Only me, you can only look at me.” It takes Rook’s brain a moment to realize what was happening before him, groaning out at the filthy squelching sound of Vil opening himself up right before him, the way Vil sighed oh so prettily at his own touch, cock drooling cum onto Rook’s pants, brows pinched in pleasure, cheeks flushed like a doll. 

It doesn’t take long before Vil deems himself ready, hastily wiping his hand off against the bed sheet, and then he’s lining himself up with Rook’s erect, aching cock, sinking down nice and slow onto the hunter, his tight heat fluttering around Rook, taking him in deeper and deeper till he’s in, to the hilt. Vil gasps when he sits down in the cradle of Rook’s hips, plump ass flush against the hunter’s pelvis, taking a moment to get used to the stretch before he’s raising up, muscle of his  straining , fluttering beneath flawless skin, riding Rook.

Vil rolls his ass down against Rook, swiveling his hips in lazy circles, just enough to seek out his own pleasure, Rook whining out, _it’s not_ _enough._ But he still lays there, as still as he can manage, watching Vil take his own pleasure, in complete rapture at his beauty. He’s so enticing like this, all dewy skin practically glowing in the low light of their room, dreamy lavender eyes, half lidded and clouded in pleasure, his pretty pink lips hanging open, gasping breaths tumbling from them, blonde hair curling around his perfect face, bouncing with each rise of his hips. He’s so utterly and completely lovely like this.

As if Rook would ever dare look at anyone but Vil. His Roi-de-Poison didn’t have to realize that though. 

Vil cries out, entire body spasming when Rook’s cock finally brushes against his prostate, the sensitive bundle of nerves setting all the cells in Vil’s body alight, toes curling in pleasure. Vil blindly reaching out for Rook’s hands, eyes squeezed shut in bliss, linking their hands together before he’s leaning over, pressing his mouth to Rook’s, pulling him into a messy kiss.

Vil starts to fuck himself down onto Rook in earnest, gasping his name between kisses like a mantra, voice wrecked, entire body shaking with exertion. Rook takes this as his queue to finally move, bucking his hips up into Vil, cock rubbing against that little bundle of nerves over and over again, kissing Vil through the tears of pleasure leaking from his queen's eyes, soothing him.

Neither of them last much longer Vil coming first with a shout, voice muffled from where he has his face buried in the crook of Rook’s neck, drooling all over the bruises and bitemarks he left earlier. Rook follows directly after, Vil’s pretty little hole spasming around Rook’s cock, contracting down almost painfully tight, spurring on the hunter’s own orgasm, coating Vil’s inner walls with his own cum. 

They lay like that for a while, the couple completely spent, both of them gasping for breath, breathing in each other’s air. Rook smiles down at Vil, pressing a kiss to his damp forehead, taking in the smell of his sweat. He runs one calloused hand across Vil’s back, counting the ridges in his spine.

Rook stops his petting when Vil finally pulls back from his shoulder, half-heartedly glaring at Rook, lips pulled down in a cute pout. “I don’t want you talking to anyone who isn’t me okay?”

Rook just chuckles at that, pulling Vil in for a sweet kiss, pulling away to pepper kisses along his jawline, taking delight in the purr Vil lets out at the attention. “Sure.” Rook agrees, no intention of doing so. He knows Vil will calm down eventually.

Or at least he hopes so.

**Author's Note:**

> its kinda diff from what i usually write for rkvl i think?? (maybe not tho idk) so its okay if ppl didnt like it. just let me know and i'll stick to the other way. but if u also enjoy??? let me know??? pls?? basically if u think leave a comment.
> 
> my [twit](https://twitter.com/giornah)
> 
> my [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/giornah)


End file.
